Page 39 of The Baking Games
I chuckle softly as I watch him walk away, and I feel a strange sense of comfort, knowing that maybe, just maybe, I'm not as alone in this as I thought.
SAVANNAH
The next morning, the producers call us out into the courtyard for a surprise activity. I got a decent night’s sleep, but I really didn't want to get up this early today.
The air buzzes with anticipation as everybody gathers around, wondering what they have in store for us. Dan, our tall and dorky host, steps forward with his trademark toothy grin.
"Good morning, contestants. Today, we have a fun little competition to lighten the mood. We're going to do a blindfolded taste test."
Some people murmur with excitement, others with apprehension, as we all exchange glances. A blindfolded taste test. This should be interesting. “We’ll be pairing you up randomly,” he continues, pulling a hat out from behind his back. Come draw a partner’s name from the hat when I call your name.”
The contestants are called up one by one. When it's my turn, I reach into the hat and pull out a slip of paper.
Unfolding it, I read the name Rhett. Great, just great. Rhett walks over, a smirk already on his face.
“Looks like we’re partners, Sunny,” he says. I roll my eyes at his nickname for me.
“Don’t get too excited.”
Dan claps his hands to get our attention again. “Okay, everybody. Let's get started. Each team will be blindfolded and have to guess the ingredients in five different desserts. The team with the lowest score will face a penalty.”
Rhett and I look at each other. “A penalty?” I whisper.
“I guess we’ll find out what it is later,” he says with a shrug.
Dan grins like a Cheshire cat. “Savannah, you’re going to be blindfolded first. Rhett, you'll feed her, and she has to guess the ingredients, and then we’ll switch. You’ll have thirty seconds for each dessert.”
I put on a blindfold and take a deep breath, feeling excited but nervous. Rhett’s proximity to me is a little bit unnerving. I can smell his cologne, and I like it more than I would ever care to admit out loud.
I can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Ready, Sunny?”
“Stop calling me that and just get on with it," I mutter, trying to focus. The first dessert is placed in front of us. I can hear the plate touch the counter. Rhett puts his hand on the back of my neck and then gently guides a spoonful into my mouth. I taste something rich and creamy with a strange aftertaste. “Is this chocolate mousse, and is that lavender?” I guess.
Rhett chuckles. “Nope. Try again.”
“I don't know. White chocolate?”
“Wrong again.”
Dan calls time. Rhett is barely containing his laughter.
“It was goat cheese.”
“Seriously? Who puts goat cheese in a dessert?” I say, gagging.
“Next one,” Dan announces.
Rhett feeds me another spoonful, and I'm hit with a confusing mixture of flavors. “Okay, is this apple, cinnamon, and blue cheese?”
“Close, but no cigar,” Rhett says.
“I don't know. I give up.”
Rhett corrects me. “It’s Gorgonzola.”
“Okay, disgusting,” I mutter.
The next few rounds go similarly, with Rhett feeding me increasingly bizarre combinations that I can barely identify. By the end of my turn, I feel frustrated and a bit nauseous.